


I Feel Safe in Your House

by redrobinfection (ChristmasRivers)



Series: JayTim Week 2016 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Home Invasion, M/M, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristmasRivers/pseuds/redrobinfection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is stealing food from Tim's safehouses, but when he finally corners them, the confession he gets is not at all what he was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Feel Safe in Your House

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the second day - "Confession" - of the tumblr JayTim Week 2016

It started out small, so small that it was probably luck more than anything else that Tim even noticed.

There was cereal missing. Not a lot, barely even a handful of Cheerios, but Tim had just topped off the container at his main apartment the other day and he distinctly remembered barely fitting the new box in with the remaining cereal, filling the plastic container to the brim. Two days later, however, the container was full but not stuffed like it had been, and Tim knew for a fact he hadn’t eaten any - he had been out of town on Wayne Enterprises business. None of his alarms had tripped and reviewing security data and feeds from around the building revealed nothing out of the ordinary, so Tim figured that the cereal had simply settled or that he was remembering a different apartment or safehouse’s kitchen.

A week and a half later he noticed he was short two bananas. He only noticed because there had only been three left, he ate one and then the next night there were none. Still no blips in his security. If someone was breaking in then they were damned good, and he figured one of his bat siblings had probably crashed there when they knew he’d be out and nibbled on the cheerios and snagged the bananas hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Tim didn’t start feeling irked by the minor thefts until he bought more bananas three days after the first two disappeared, and then not twelve hours later two of them were already missing. Over the course of a month Tim observed with mounting annoyance as food disappeared not just from his apartment, but from several of his larger safehouses too. More cereal, too many bananas, sometimes those little easy peel oranges, and more. At one point half a loaf of bread went missing and Tim wondered why whoever was stealing the food even bothered trying to be stealthy when it was so obvious the food was being stolen. They were painstakingly careful; they never left a mess, a peel, or a single trace of the food they took. It was as if they were trying to convince Tim the food had never existed in the first place and that he had simply lost track of how much he’d had or what he had eaten. But Tim was pretty sure _no one_ could ever lose track of half a loaf of bread they had bought the day before, so he didn't know who they thought they were fooling.

The final straw for Tim was when the spaghetti he had made up - with sauce and everything - and frozen for later disappeared the very night he went to eat it. It had been there the previous night when he had left for patrol, but after that he had gone back to the Manor for the night and stayed there until he went into the office for the day. By the time he made it back to his apartment the next day to catch a quick nap and eat something before heading out for another night of patrol, the spaghetti was gone.

Tim concluded that it was past time to confront _someone_ about the thefts, the only problem was that he still wasn’t sure _who_ to confront first. He didn’t want to start asking around, mostly because he still hadn’t managed to pick up any substantial clues from his security feeds and asking everyone would be like advertising that there were gaps in his personal security networks. Not to mention the embarrassment from admitting having been played by one of his “siblings”.

He considered confronting Dick first, because at a glance it seemed like a Dick thing to do - in every sense of the word. But something about the whole thing felt off to him. After thinking on it further, Tim felt that if it _had_ been Dick breaking into his apartments and eating his food, Dick would have very likely stuck around afterwards, at least once, just to hang out, if not to also pester Tim to eat something himself and get more sleep, while he was at it.

Tim was saved the trouble of deciding whether or not to accuse Dick when, only a few days later, he managed to catch the thief in the act. Or at least, on the scene, because what he found was not what he was expecting at all.

A few weeks after the initial theft, he came back unexpectedly early from his nightly patrol to find the security in his apartment–some of his most elaborate and most secure–in suspension. Quietly infiltrating his own living space and expecting the worst, Tim almost tripped when he made it to the kitchen, peered into the brightly lit space, and locked eyes with Jason Todd, sitting on Tim's counter and pouring cereal into one of the plastic containers from his pantry.

For a moment they froze and neither said a word. Then Jason flushed nearly red enough to match the "hood" sitting on the counter next to him and looked away, giving Tim a moment to find his voice over the shock.

“J-Jason?”

The taller man sighed and set down the cereal so he could scrub a hand over his face. “Hey there, babybird.”

Tim’s gaze landed on the cereal. “It was you. Stealing food. This entire time. You.” Tim shook his head then stopped and stared when he noticed two whole bunches of bananas sitting on the table next to another unopened box of cereal.

Jason hopped off the counter and spread his arms wide in admission. “Yep. You caught me. It was me,” he confessed with blithe resignation. “It was all me.” Tim opened his mouth to question, but Jason turned his back on Tim and continued, never giving Tim a chance to get a word in edgewise.

“I felt bad about never replacing any of this," he waved his hands vaguely at the food spread across the counters, "so here you go: here is everything I took and more,” Jason finished, topping off the container and replacing the lid with a snap. “I’ll just finish putting this stuff away, then I’ll get out of your hair,” he added in a suspiciously casual tone, turning to grab the next box of cereal while still pointedly avoiding Tim’s gaze.

He was hiding something. Clearly. But unless Jason had finally lost it and had poisoned his food, Tim wasn’t sure what Jason would have had to hide at this point.

“Jason.”

“I hadn’t really expected you to be back this early; I’d planned to be in and out and it would have been like I was never even here, so give me a minute to get this cleaned up and then I’ll be gone.”

“Jason!”

Jason halted halfway into opening the next bag of cereal and turned to raise an eyebrow at Tim. It felt strange to consider, but Tim could have sworn that for all that Jason was trying to bluster on like this was nothing, the older boy still looked uncomfortably anxious to be looking Tim in the eye, and the longer Tim stayed silent, the redder Jason’s face became.

At this point Tim wasn’t sure which was odder– seeing the man who had once tried to kill him, but now occasionally played nice enough to work decently well with him on patrols, sneak groceries into his pantry _or_ watching that same man blush like a schoolgirl caught slipping notes into her crush’s locker before school.

“Who else?” Tim demanded.

Jason blinked  at the question. “Huh?”

“Who else’s safehouses did you break into to pilfer food? Was this some kind of subtle revenge or something?” Tim queried drily, certain Jason had some sort of angle he simply hadn’t figured out yet.

“N-no.” Jason’s voice cracked. “No. It wasn’t. And only yours.”

Tim raised his eyebrows, but Jason shook his head earnestly,. “Really, you can ask around; I didn’t touch any of the other bats’ places.” And for whatever reason Tim actually believed him, at least in regards to the “other bats’” part. In regards to the rest…it had been awhile, but this wouldn’t have been the first time Jason had singled him out for special torment.

Tim waited for an explanation, but Jason didn’t offer any; instead he turned back to filling the cereal containers as quickly as he could. Tim opened his mouth to question Jason’s motives further, but the words died in his throat as he caught sight of the something off to the side.

The box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce were to be expected if Jason really did intend to repay Tim for the stolen food, but beside them, next to the stove, were some vegetables and a cutting board, and on the stove there were two pots, one already filled with water.

“You were going to actually make the pasta.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jason flinched and responded over his shoulder anyway. “Yeah. It seemed like I should.”

“And I expect you would have frozen it, too?”

Jason huffed out a soft laugh. “Yeah. I was going to make the whole box and freeze several portions,” he admitted quietly. “That way you’d have a couple dinners; I know you don’t eat that well sometimes…”

Tim was silent for a long moment, first staring pointedly at the pasta and then boring holes into Jason’s back with his eyes before, finally, he snapped and just couldn’t hold back the real question anymore.

“Jason.”

“Replacement?" Jason responded, drawing out the word. "Hey, you got any more of these containers or is this it?”

Tim ignored the 'nickname' and the feeble attempt to redirect the conversation. “Why?”

Jason turned, frowning. “Why do I need more containers for the shit-ton of cereal I brought or why what? Why do I know you don't eat well? Hell, I mean I was taught by the 'World's Greatest Detective' too, give me some credit. Like I wouldn't notice you stumbling around, stomach growling half the times we've teamed-"

“No,” Tim interrupted, drawing the word out slowly, waiting until Jason had closed his mouth before continuing. “Why do you care? Why are you making me spaghetti? Why are you restocking my food? _What do you care if I eat or not?_ ”

Jason’s frown intensified, but Tim caught a flash of something other than anger in Jason’s eyes right before he turned away grumbling under his breath and went back to fussing with the cereal.

“What? So I’m that much of a douche that I can't even care if my now and again partner is going to drop dead one day from exhaustion and malnutrition? Too much of a jerk for it to make sense if I to want to do something about it? And, what, I’m not allowed to be a decent enough person to want to make it up to someone after they’ve let me borrow something from them? Huh?” he continued muttering with little real heat as he deliberately refused to meet Tim's questioning gaze, even after Tim entered the kitchen and moved into his line of sight. “What level of asshole do you I- ”

“Jason.”

Jason fell silent.

“Why? Why only my safehouses? My apartment?”

A long minute passed before Jason finally turned, but when he did, Tim knew he’d finally asked the right questions. Jason’s frown was gone, as was the put-upon flippancy from before; instead there was an expression akin to fear on his face, if Tim could dare to believe it. Jason’s eyes darted across Tim’s face uncertainly, searching for something. Tim kept his expression impassive.

“I…Tim…” Jason gripped the counter behind him with white knuckled desperation. Tim noticed, but chose not to comment on the fact that Jason had finally said his name - as opposed to some belittling diminutive or nickname - and he watched carefully as possible half-explanations and desperate deflections flashed behind Jason’s eyes before Jason settled on one, he opened his mouth to utter the lie or half-truth or whichever blend of the two he planned to try to sell this time, and Tim summarily cut him off.

“No, Jason. No excuses. Why? Why here? Why me?”

Jason squeezed the counter tightly one final time before sagging back against it heavily, exhaling slowly as the fight drained from his posture.

“I like being here,” Jason admitted after a moment. Tim opened his mouth to push for more, but Jason didn’t give him the chance, looking up with a blazing look of determination that tacitly demanded - and earned - Tim’s full attention.

“At first I was just lazy and hungry and I knew your safehouses and their security and thought I could get away with it. I was in, I was out and it was like I was never even there. Dozens of times” - Tim blinked, he hadn’t noticed enough food for _dozens_ of times disappear - “I bet you didn’t even notice half of them” - ok, yeah, but if Jason expected him to admit it he had another thing coming.

“But then I started to get comfortable. I started spending a few minutes longer in one safehouse and then a half an hour in another.” Jason huffed a laugh and Tim blinked, caught off guard by both Jason's words and the gentle sound. “I spent a whole night in your Narrows safehouse once; I bet you had no idea about that either.” He didn’t. He was going to have to completely revamp his security protocols after this; he would never underestimate Jason, or anyone else, this badly ever again.

“And aside from getting more relaxed in your space, I got lax about how much food I took as well. Too many bananas. I thought that half a' loaf of bread would get me caught for sure.” No kidding, Tim thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

“I just…started to feel at home in your space. I started to feel safe. I started breaking into your safehouses even when I didn’t have to, even when it was out of my way, just because I wanted to be there.

“Being in your space, sitting where we had worked on cases together, or resting in places where I knew you had sat - spaces you might have filled as few as a couple hours prior - felt…comfortable. It felt right. It _feels_ right.” Jason swallowed. “Being near you…feels right.”

Tim swallowed too.

“I broke into your apartment and your safehouses because I like that feeling, and I because missed working with you, missed seeing you.” Jason coughed and flushed, but soldiered on. “I bought you replacements for the food I took because I never meant to let it get this far; I didn’t even see what was happening until it was too late.”

Tim stared, quiet this time around not because he was waiting for more or was at a loss for words, but rather because he was experiencing sudden and drastic loss of coherent thought.

“I bought extra, and I was going to actually make the pasta, because I _do_ care.” Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly, visibly steeling himself. “And I care because I like being around you. Because I like _you_.”

And. Okay. Wow.

Wow.

Tim wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near close to what Jason had just admitted, nothing close to the full-blown _confession_ the other man had just laid on him.

Tim was speechless. He knew he needed to say something, do something, but faced with such a game changing admission his mind had completely blanked. The sudden shift to Tim’s apparent reality was just too much to process. Apparently.

It was at that moment it finally hit Tim that he was still in his Red Robin suit, hadn’t even lowered his cowl and Jason probably couldn’t even read his facial expressions. Tim hurriedly yanked the mask from his face and shook his hair out with a gasp.

Jason was still facing Tim, still looking straight at him, but from the distant, guarded look to his eyes, Tim figured Jason was already imagining a dismissal or a rejection. To be fair, Tim wasn’t sure himself how he would eventually respond to what Jason had admitted. But for the time being…

“You know, if you’re still game to make that pasta, I wouldn’t mind having some of it now.”

Jason snapped out of his thoughts with a startled “What?”

“I didn’t really eat much before I went out tonight and I’m starving. I wouldn’t mind some of that pasta now,” Tim reiterated with a growing grin.

Jason paused, taking in Tim’s warming expression, then grinned back and slapped the counter with both hands as he sprung upright. “I can do that,” he responded. “I’ll go ahead with making the full box, while we're at it, and freeze the rest.”

“Well, I mean, as long as you’re here, you might as well have some too and hang out for a while,” Tim added. Jason froze and then Tim got the next shock of his night as Jason’s grin instantly gave way to a beaming smile. A real, unfiltered expression of happiness. Tim didn’t think he had even _imagined_ what post-resurrection Jason genuinely smiling would look like up until that point.

And he wasn’t prepared in the least for what that smile did to his chest, a sudden tightness accompanied by an unexpected surge of fondness for the other man he’d never realized must have been developing during all those months negotiating their fragile truce and slowly coming to trust one another.  

Jason set to work chopping vegetables and browning meat for the sauce while Tim finished unpacking the other foodstuffs in a daze. A little under an hour later they sat together at Tim’s kitchen table, blowing on the pasta to cool it, several containers of pasta and sauce already packed away and cooling in Tim’s freezer. They ate in comfortable silence until Tim cleared his throat.

“You know. I think this pasta is at least ten times better than the stuff you pulled from my freezer before. Easily,” Tim laughed apologetically.

“Hnn,” Jason hummed, swallowing a mouthful. “Well, that’s saying something since I thought that pasta was pretty damn tasty.”

Tim laughed again. “It probably only tasted that good to you because _I_ made it and you ate it in _my_ kitchen,” he teased with a growing smile.

“Probably,” Jason confessed.

**Author's Note:**

> My DCU tumblr sideblog is [redrobinfection](http://redrobinfection.tumblr.com/). Link for this work on tumblr: [here](http://redrobinfection.tumblr.com/post/148374228976/i-feel-safe-in-your-house). Thanks for reading!


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